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A minute later, after a lot of glaring and panting, the men are out, and we’re alone inside the room.
I face my husband, who’s staring at me with an intensity that makes his gaze a solid, tangible thing. I’m about to tell him that I can’t do this because I’m the biggest chicken in the history of the world, but he doesn’t let me. He marches over, bends down and hoists me in his arms, bridal-style. All I can do is gasp his name, hold on to his shoulders as he strides to the bed and sits down with me on his lap.
“You okay?” He frowns, his thumb tracing the shape of my lips.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I…” I shake my head. “I panicked.”
“It’s okay. It’s fine. I don’t care. If you don’t wanna do it, we won’t do it.”
“You won’t be disappointed? Because I am. I’m super disappointed.”
He chuckles. “A chance to fuck you on camera? Fuck yeah, I’d love that. Ever since I set foot in this place, I’ve wanted to do that. But I’ve got a pretty intense imagination, Pixie. I don’t need a camera and a red light to picture a scenario where people are watching us fuck and jizzing their pants.”
I duck my head, laughing at him, laughing at myself. “It’s crazy how you can make me blush. I should be used to your dirty mouth by now.”
His chest shakes with laughter. “That’s part of my charm.”
I sink into him, sighing. My legs are swaying, wiggling toes grazing the floor. Somewhere in the last minute when Abel picked me up and sat me on his sturdy lap, I lost my flats and my feet are naked now.
My husband is quiet, simply breathing, nuzzling his cheek into my hair. Like a weirdo, I’m smelling his Adam’s apple. A few minutes pass in silence before I speak. “I keep imagining my parents. Like, what would they think if they saw me like this? What would they think if they knew how badly I want to do this with you? I shouldn’t be looking for their approval. In fact, the whole point of this is that I don’t care. But I can’t shake it off. What would the whole town think? Sky? Fucking Mrs. Weatherby who ruined everything. Mr. B. Your uncle.”
Abel sighs. “My uncle is probably slumped on a bar somewhere, sleeping his drinking binge off. He doesn’t care what’s happening in the world right now.”
“Your uncle drinks?” I look up at him.
He lowers his face, his stubbled chin scraping my forehead. “Yes, Pixie. My uncle’s a drunk. He usually drives a couple of towns over so no one finds out. I’ve had to pick him up a few times myself.”
“No way. I never knew that.”
He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You never knew because I never told you.”
“You kept secrets from me?”
“Nah. It wasn’t important enough to tell. I don’t care about Peter Adams and he doesn’t care about me. We lived together because we had no choice. I mean, he had a choice. He could’ve kicked me out but he kept me, and in return, I kept his secret.”
“I’m so sorry. It must’ve been awful. You should’ve told me.”
Throwing me his lopsided smile, he shakes his head. “You made it all bearable.”
Swallowing a lump of emotion, I kiss his lips softly. I love this man so much. I’m constantly surprised by how much I love him, how I keep falling in love with him every day.
When we break apart, he says, “As for the rest of the town, they don’t care what’s happening either. They are all at church.”
“Oh yeah. Sunday.” I nod. “Church.”
I haven’t been to church ever since we got to New York. I don’t want to. Somewhere deep inside, I’m mad at God too.
I thought He’d help us when the time came, do the right thing. But He didn’t. He watched from the sidelines while they beat up my Abel, humiliated me. Lightning didn’t strike. The sky didn’t crack open with outrage. Maybe it wasn’t going to anyway, but I would’ve appreciated someone stepping in and stopping it. That would have been miracle enough.
“Do you miss it?” Abel asks. “Going to church?”
“No. I don’t think so. Do you?”
Scoffing, he murmurs, “The only reason I went to church was to see you.”
I bite my lip, making his eyes glitter. “I can’t believe you went just to see me. Especially in the beginning, when we didn’t even talk.”
“Eh. It wasn’t too bad. I kept myself busy.”
“With what?”
“With you. I used to stare at you. A lot. I’d watch you whisper something in Sky’s ear or laugh at something quietly. And then I’d close my eyes at night and see your smiles in my dreams, smiling myself. Yeah, Sundays were pretty exciting for me.” He kisses my nose, making me giggle, like I’m back in church. “And then I used to draw you, sitting there, while Father Knight talked about life and death and all that bullshit.”
